


Everything Has Changed

by CannibalKats



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Cults, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12284751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/pseuds/CannibalKats
Summary: It's been 3 years since his brother saved him from Mint Eye and everyone in the RFA still treats Saeran like he's made of glass. He's gotten kind of sick of it until he meets Nine, and everything changes





	1. An Ordinary Day

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this for months.

Saeyoung was relieved when he saw his brother already dressed and looking like he had somewhere to go first thing in the morning.  It had been close to three years since he’d spirited him out of the hospital, and after two years of pretty intense therapy he was really coming around.  He was still sullen and he kept mostly to himself but it had been over a year since there had been any kind of incident.

“Look at you,” he chirps ruffling his brother’s freshly bleached hair.  “Almost like you’ve got a job or something.”

“I’m just going for a walk,” he grunts batting Saeyoung’s hand away.

“Kind of over dressed aren’t you?”

“Fuck off.”

Saeyoung shrugs and laughs, but that’s about as good as his day gets.  The job today had been outside and they’re rained out within minutes of arriving.  They wait in the van, equipment ready for over an hour but the rain only gets harder.

“So much for 40% chance,” he groans.  Saeran had been wearing a jacket, and he briefly wonders if his brother had some kind of meteorological super power before grabbing his computer bag and going back to his car.

“Sorry baby,” he coos patting the dash before turning the keys in the ignition, “Daddy didn’t earn you any new toys today.”

He only knows his brother is home because he can hear the bass of the music thumping from his room when he gets back.  Saeyoung grabs a couple cans of soda from the fridge and a bag of chips and goes straight to his computer room, he couldn’t get the job done today but he’s sure if he logs into the office he can find a few things to do. 

The agency didn’t exist anymore but there were still jobs for hackers, and corporate espionage was at least marginally less dangerous.

He’s right, he’s got a few hours worth of work lined up and he sees plenty more if he wants it but just as he’s getting into the zone he’s certain he hears an unfamiliar laugh from his brother’s room.  He shakes it off, there’s still music playing, it was probably the music.

But it nags at him and he finds himself pulling up the surveillance feed.  The camera feed cycles, kitchen, living room, bathroom sink, his bedroom, the computer room, Saeran’s room.  His brother is sitting at his drawing table, the bed is out of view, and he’s not sure if he’s paranoid or if his brother is glancing over his shoulder in that direction, then the camera switches again, gate, front door, kitchen—

He stretches, rolls his shoulders and goes back to work, the surveillance feed cycles forgotten on his tertiary screen as he works but then he’s sure out of the corner of his eye he saw someone else in his brother’s room for a split second, he stares at the feed willing them to walk back into view but all he sees is his brother, knees drawn under his chin staring at his phone for the remaining seconds before the cycle begins again. 

“Come on Saeyoung,” he whispers to himself.  What should he care if his brother’s brought someone home.  He should be happy Saeran’s made a friend.  Happy he’d met someone he wanted to bring home happy he... _ holy shit _ .

An idea crosses his mind, it should be nothing, but it snags there and he can’t let it go.   _ Did Saeran have a secret lover _ .  He wasn’t supposed to be home for hours yet, did his brother go out to meet with someone?  Did they come here for the day and he plan to send them off before he got home from work?  Had he done this before?  If it wasn’t romantic why were they in the bedroom and not on the sofa?

Curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself practically sneaking through the house.  It’s not necessary at all with the volume of the music but still, he creeps, sock footed to his brother’s door.  It’s not latched and when he glances around the corner his brother is still seated at the drawing tables with his knees drawn up and his phone in his hand but Saeyoung can see the bed.

A man sits in the middle of the bed, a European looking man wearing his brother’s shirt and no pants.  A man with long thick brightly coloured hair, streaks of purples and blues and green are stuck to his face and arms.  One of his brother’s black sweaters pools at his waist, it tangles in his legs and drops to the floor when he jumps up and shouts.

“In your face you Goth bitch!” He points and laughs and Saeyoung sees the smile start on his brother’s face before he makes eye contact and glares at the crack in his door.

“You’re home early,” Saeran fiddles with his phone and music recedes. 

The stranger collects the sweater from the floor and ties it around his waist but he doesn’t blush, doesn’t make to hide himself any more than that. He notices a brightly coloured tattoo on his arm.  The stranger smiles at him.

“Rain,” Saeyoung shrugs, “you should have warned me.”

“I thought you’d see the clouds,” he frowns.  “This is Nine, he says he knows you.”

He turns his head so fast he thinks he might have whiplash. “He what, knows, what?”

Now the stranger blushes.  “I mean, know is a strong word,” he’s American he notes, how many American’s did he know?  “We had a programming class together.  We were partnered that year?  You probably don’t remember I have a weird memory for things like that, you didn’t talk to anyone, hey am I babbling?”

He glances from his brother to the person in front of him.  He didn’t remember anyone, he didn’t really try to remember anyone from school.  “Uh, Saeran can I talk to you for a minute?”

Saeran shrugs and follows him out of the room.

*

Saeran liked to walk in the rain, something soothing about a warm day with rain, the way the world smelled, the way the people around him all made for shelter, it made him feel centered, like he was the only  _ calm _ thing in the entire city.  He rarely felt calm.

Sure the weather warnings had marked a low probability but there’s something about the heavy clouds in the sky that has him pulling on his jeans this early in the morning.  There was a park close to his brother’s house and if he didn’t catch the rain there was a big tree he liked to sit in and draw.

He’d hoped to be just behind his brother but Saeyoung is coming out of the computer room with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder when Saeran starts to pull his boots on.  His brother teases him and ruffles his hair before he leaves for work.  He considers warning him about the weather, Saeyoung isn’t even wearing a sweater today, but he doesn’t go for the convertible so Saeran decides to just go on his way.

He’s almost sure he was wrong about the rain when the first few drops splatter the sidewalk in front of him.   It’s not long until the light rain turns into a downpour and he finds himself pulling his hood up and zippering his coat the rest of the way.  Still he walks, enjoying the smell of the rain, the rush of the people around him until the puddles on the sidewalk become more river than puddle and he decides to cross the street.

It’s not far from Jaehee’s cafe, he could get a coffee and pastry, maybe the wind would let up a little and he would be less cold walking home.  Turning towards the cafe he sees  _ him _ .  His hair catches his attention, streaks of blue and green and purple plastered to his face, he looks like a tourist and he wonders how lost he had to be to end up  _ here _ .

He’s almost made his mind up to keep walking when he watches the man fling his phone out of his pocket onto the sidewalk. People start to give the man a wide berth as they walk around him and Saeran hasn’t even realized that he’s walking straight towards him until a car passes.  A spray of water from the street soaks them both and they cry out in unison.

“ _ MOTHERFUCKER!” _

The man claps his hands over his mouth when he sees Saeran and manages to throw himself off balance falling flat on his ass in the puddle that’s formed where he’d dropped his phone. “Fuck,” he whines, embarrassed laughter starting to bubble out of his frustrated face.

Saeran fishes the fumbled phone out of the puddle and looks it over, it has a decent case and it’s probably ok, but the strange man is sitting soaked on the sidewalk laughing like a maniac.  He finds himself laughing too and reaching for his hand.

He gives him a curious look when he helps him up and smiles when he accepts his phone from Saeran.

“Ok,” he says, wiping at his jeans unsuccessfully and frowning, “this is going to sound really weird and I promise I’m not a stalker but I think I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” Saeran shakes his head, his Korean is decent, his accent is  _ not great _ but he’s more than understandable.  The fact remained, he didn’t know any Americans.

“I just think we maybe went to school together, you’re name isn’t Luciel is it?” He must have made a face because the stranger starts apologizing. “Shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear I’m not a stalker.”

He’s so flustered and apologetic Saeran starts to laugh. “It’s alright,” he assures him. “It probably  _ is _ weird,” he shrugs.  “But I think you mean my brother.”

“Oh,” he stops and pushes his hair out of his face.  “Wow, you guys look a lot alike.  I mean aside from the like goth or punk or whatever thing you’ve got going on.”

Saeran raises an eyebrow at him.  They’re soaked and only getting worse standing here in the rain. “We’re twins,” he says it almost absently, glancing around them trying to figure out where he might be headed.  “Where are you trying to go are you lost.”

“Hmmm,” he hums casually. “I am,” he frowns and looks around. “Fuck I am  _ really _ lost, I was going to use the GPS to get back to my house but my phone is probably fucked now.”

Saeran shrugs, he doesn’t want to turn it on if it  _ is _ water damaged and he can’t tell here.  “I don’t live far,” he says feeling his chest tighten, was he going to invite this stranger into his brother’s house?  “I have t-tools I can make sure your phone isn’t wrecked, and maybe find you something dry to wear?  If that’s ok?”

“Really?” he smiles at Saeran, wide and open and pushes his hair out of his face again.  “As long as you’re not a serial killer that sounds fine.”

He snorts and the stranger makes another attempt to push the wet hair out of his eyes and sighs.  Saeran jams his hands into his pocket to try and warm them up and then finds himself laughing out loud.  “Uh,” Saeran mumbles as the man stares at him.  “My friend leaves these lying around everywhere if it helps.”  He holds out a pair of clips that Yoosung had left jammed in the couch the last time he’d come over.

“My hero,” he smiles that wide open smile at him before snatching the clips out of his hands and twisting the offending hair back out of his face. “I’m Nine,” Nine salutes him.

“Saeran,” he nods. “Home is this way.”

They walk in silence but he catches Nine watching him curiously the whole way.  He wonders if he invited Nine home because he claimed to know Saeyoung.   _ You need to be more careful _ , he chastises himself, it might be three years since Saeyoung left them and the agency was in pieces and they hadn’t heard from anyone but Vanderwood since then. Still It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Nine could be dangerous. Especially introducing himself as a number?  Saying he knew  _ Luciel _ ?  Saeran might have fucked up.

“Shit!”

He doesn’t have time to turn around before Nine’s grabbed him by the arm, and they’re both tumbling to the sidewalk.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “Are you ok, I’m sorry.”

Saeran finds himself laughing again.  He’s never met someone so clumsy, he’d thought Yoosung was bad, but he was just ignorant of his surroundings, this man was a train wreck.  No wonder his phone had such a heavy duty case.  No one pretends to be this clumsy, not even for the chance to kill his brother.

“Wow, that’s a pretty impressive security system,” he marvels as they pass the gate.

“I’m surprised you know Arabic,” he frowns, suspicion starting to grow.

“Just numbers,” he smiles.   “For a game I was working on.  I’d have had no idea what the question was if you weren’t mumbling it under your breath.”

“Oh,” shit, he  _ did _ do that.  He was usually alone. “Give me your phone.”

Nine pulls his phone out of his wet pocket and manages to throw it on the ground again and practically growls, but Saeran just shakes his head and picks it up.

“Are you always like this,” he asks.

“Wow,” he whistles.  “You’re definitely not the quiet nerd I went to school with.”

“Wh-what?” Saeran stammers, after everything his memories of his brother from before were  _ tainted _ , he didn’t know anyone but the Saeyoung that existed now, irritating, teasing Saeyoung.

“I don’t know,” Nine says watching his face carefully and wrapping his arms around himself.  “He was a quiet Dude, he practically had a fan club until they realized he didn’t care.  I don’t think he noticed anyone that wasn’t standing at the front of a lecture hall.”

Saeran shakes his head, that’s not like anything he’d expected to hear about his brother.  He didn’t want to let this person go, not without talking to him more.  Therapy was one thing, it helped him remind himself when he was being illogical but it was still hard to trust his memories.  There were always mistakes, always layers of truth.

“You can use our shower while I fix your phone, if you want?”

“Really?” Nine frowns at him as he drops the phone on Saeyoung’s desk.  “That would be really, uh, is it weird to shower at a stranger’s house while he fixes your phone,” he calls after Saeran when he disappears down a hallway.

“Probably,” he shrugs coming back towards him.  He hands Nine a towel with one of his shirts and a pair of pajama pants folded on top. “But it’s not any weirder than seeing you throw your phone on the ground twice in the last 30 minutes.”

Nine cackles. “Spend enough time with me and that will get normal pretty fast.”

He finds himself smiling again. “I’m starting to see that.”

He shows Nine to the bathroom and waits outside while he strips off his wet clothes, he expects him to push them through a little crack in the door but Nine comes out of the room with a towel around his waist “Where’s your drier.”

“I’ll, uh, it’s ok, I’ve got it,” he reaches towards Nine and waits for him to put his things in his arms.

“You’re sure? You’re fixing my phone  _ and  _ doing my laundry?”  

“It’s no big deal,” he frowns. What was with him today?

Nine shrugs and drops the pile of wet things into his hands.  Faint scars are noticable on his chest before he crosses his arms.  Saeran notes smaller scars peppering his arms.  “This isn’t one of those, fetish video things is it?” he asks scrunching up his nose.  “I’m not saying I wouldn’t consider it, but you have to tell me if there’s a webcam in here right?”

He freezes, everyone who came into the house already knew about his brother’s security, and it’s not like Saeyoung would be checking the feed right now.

“Wait, is that what this is,” Nine says leaning forward to look up into his eyes.

“N-no, no, that’s stupid,” he stammers.  “But there, uh, there is a webcam in the bathroom, it’s only on the sink though, my brother is uh, he’s paranoid.”

“Weird,” Nine laughs and closes the door.

He puts Nine’s things in the drier in the garage and gathers the tools and phone from Saeyoung’s desk and takes them to his room.  As he pulls the heavy case off the phone he notices a few thin spidery cracks across the glass.  He and Saeyoung have the same phones and he knows his brother keeps spare screens and digitizers somewhere. 

He pulls the phone apart before he goes looking for any parts, making sure there’s nothing else he needs but no water seems to have gotten inside.  He digs through Saeyoung’s desk and finds batteries, digitizers, and screens.

He decides to replace the lot.  More to busy himself, steady his thoughts, force himself to focus on something else for a little while.

He’s putting down the glue for the glass when his door slides open.  “Oh jesus, that bad huh?”

“No, it was fine,” he says without looking up, “but your screen was cracked and this is an older phone so I replaced the battery, too.”

“Really? That’s, wow, what do I owe you?”

He holds his breath while he places the glass, careful to keep it aligned before pressing it down.  When he’s satisfied he plugs it in and turns to Nine shrugging, he’s hit in the face with the pants he’d given him.

“Fuck,” Nine groans. “I wasn’t, Christ you just fixed my phone and I did that.”

“Uh,” Saeran furrows his brow at him, standing in the middle of his room in his shirt and a pair of briefs, his hair wrapped in a towel.

“They were too small,” Nine shrugs and smiles.  “But seriously what do I owe you, I can’t just let you do all this and not like I dunno pay you or something, at least for the parts.”

“Could you,” he looks away. “Could you maybe tell me what my brother was like when you knew him?”

“Really?” Nine smiles.  “I mean,” he chews on her bottom lip, “I didn’t  _ know _ him.  We had one class together my senior year I don’t know much.”

“That’s ok,” he shrugs.

Nine sits on his bed with his legs curled under himself and considers. He watches Nine rub at his arms with his hands, there’s a tattoo of an octopus that takes up most of his left arm, the colours match his hair.  “I mean he’s a fucking genius but you probably know that part already.”

Saeran rolls his eyes and snorts. 

“He was quiet,” Nine shrugs.  “Very serious, the opposite of me, we had a few assignments together but we always met at the library, he wouldn’t come to my apartment no matter how many times I offered.  I mean we could have had a beer or ate or whatever while we worked.  Not that I did much work, he was always 3 steps ahead of me.”

He unzips his sweater and tosses it to Nine. “You’re probably cold.”

“Thanks,” he smiles at Saeran again.  “He loosened up a bit by the end of the semester, started joking around a bit but I never saw him around campus anywhere.  I’m sorry I don’t really know anything about him.”

He unplugs NIne’s phone from the wall and plugs it into a charger pack, connects him to the wifi and tosses it on the bed beside her.

They sit there quiet for a minute before he laughs. “Do you have Uno on your phone?”

“What?” Saeran screws up his face.

Nine laughs and reaches towards him.  He doesn’t know why he does it but he unlocks his phone and drops it in his hand.

“Here,” Nine pulls it up.  “I’d suggest something more fun if I had my laptop, but who knows what fresh hell I’d be in right now if I’d had that with me today.”

Saeran covers his face and shakes his head, Nine sets the phone on the table next to him and takes a seat on his bed again.

“My brother might have pants that fit you, he’s a bit bigger than me,” he says watching him tuck his knees underneath himself.

“They’re just legs,” Nine smirks,  “unless you’re uncomfortable I’m ok.”

“So Uno,” he frowns opening the app on his phone.


	2. Chapter 2

Nine had been in Korea for almost a month, working almost non-stop since the day he arrived.  He hadn’t even considered that he might be setting expectations too high until the department head had brought it up. It wasn’t a schedule he was unfamiliar with. 

His little indie game studio had only been five people and they’d maintained their release schedules by working 16 hour days, sometimes more during crunch.  It was something he could do because his office was a computer in the middle of his tiny two bedroom basement apartment where he could see everything his kids did.  Not to mention he had friends and family to fall back on when the twins had places to be and he couldn’t spare an hour.

Two of the five of them had retired when the bigger studio bought them out.  The other two had taken positions at their American office and Nine had accepted a position in the home office.  The twins would stay with his parents until the school year was over in a few more weeks, and then the real fun would begin.  Trying to balance work and being a Parent on his own for the first time ever.

So he was taking today off.  It was supposed to be warm with a chance of showers and he was going to get up early, pick a direction, and walk.  It went well until the showers became a flood, and he realized he had no idea where he was.

_ No big deal _ , he tells himself, standing in the pouring rain with his hair in his face.  He pulls it back, sopping wet as it is and tries to pull it into a ponytail but his elastic snaps.

“Fuck,” he groans, people are now parting to walk around him and he fumbles with his phone in his pocket. 

The headphone jack catches on the edge of his pocket and his phone skitters across the sidewalk.  All he can do for a minute is stare at it.  Some days it was like he woke up in someone else’s body and all the commands were slightly off.

He doesn’t notice the man walking towards him until they’re both soaked by a passing car and cursing.  He looks up and a familiar face looks back, a little older, and a lot more punk rock than he remembered.  He can practically hear the keys clacking as his brain works to pull up the name.  _ Luciel _ .

Probably-Luciel helps Nine up, and he blurts it out like a big clumsy idiot.  His face instantly goes from helpful stranger to suspicious and that’s when Nine starts babbling.

“I think you mean my brother,” the man is frowning and Nine keeps babbling.

He can’t stop, he’s embarrassed and the words just spill out.

But the man stops him, offers to fix his phone and help him get home and Nine doesn’t know why but he accepts.  This is why his parents were insisting on visiting already, before he’d even bought furniture.  He goes out and follows the first person to smile at him home.

Quite literally it seems.

So Nine followed him home, and he gratefully accepts the offer of a hot shower while Not-Luciel fixes his phone and dries his sopping wet things.  He can’t resist the urge to be nosy in the bathroom, he opens drawers, tells himself he’s looking for moisturizer, he doesn’t find much out of the ordinary for men in their 20s.

He pulls on the tshirt Saeran has lent him and eyes the pj-pants suspiciously before trying them on.  As expected they go on, but barely and he slides them back down and folds them again.  Nine’s hanging his wet towel over the shower when he’s sure he hears a door somewhere over the sound of the music that had started just after he’d turned the shower on.

He doesn’t see anyone when he looks out the door, the TV is off and the kitchen is empty, so he turns back to the hallway and follows the music.  His heart sinks when he sees his phone being put back together but Saeran assures him it was nothing, all he wants in return is to know what Luciel was like in school.

Nine admits he didn’t know him well but he does his best to tell him what he remembers, and Saeran watches him like a hawk.  His eyes are so green Nine finds himself distracted, stumbling over the words as he tries to remember.  He didn’t even notice he’d been shivering until Saeran tossed him his sweater and when he finishes talking they sit in awkward silence.

He plugs Nine’s phone into a battery pack and tosses it to him. He fumbles but catches it.  Nine can feel the rumbling of the drier, it must be on the other side of the wall, and he glances at his phone.  If he didn’t find a way to ease the tension in the room he would start babbling again.  The twins had Uno on his phone, the three of them played together when he wasn’t working.

“Do you have Uno o-on your phone?”

He apologizes for not having something better to suggest but Saeran hands him his phone to find the game for him, while he clumsily tries to offer Nine a pair of his brother’s pants.

“They’re just legs,” he laughs, sneaking his number into the phone’s contacts and sending himself a text before dropping his phone on the desk beside Saeran.

Nine makes himself comfortable on Saeran’s neatly made bed and they play a few rounds of Uno, awkwardness evaporating as they start to chat around the game.  He likes the way Saeran smiles when he thinks he’s going to win. 

“Why do you even have this on your phone?” He laughs, beating Nine again.

“I played the actual card game with my kids, but they’re still in the states until school finishes so we’ve been playing this when we can.”

He’s quiet for a minute.  “Kids,” he says curiously. “More than one.”

“Twins,” Nine says cautiously.

“Hmm,” he gives him a hard look and he knows what’s coming. 

“They’re eight and yeah I was young,” he says defensively.

Saeran raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t follow with the condescending look he’s used to. “Are they with their Mother then?”

“No,” Nine says stretching out and laying back on the bed. “No mother, made them myself with my boyfriend but he died; we were in high school, he died when I was pregnant, it’s mostly why I had them instead of,” Nine trails off.  

That was a lot, he just dropped a lot of very personal shit on a stranger.  God having twins when he was in high school usually made people shy away but admitting he’d given birth to them? He should leave.  He just came out to a stranger and told the dead boyfriend story.  Should he just tell the sad cult story too?

Saeran shrugs.  “That sucks.”

Nine laughs at the simplicity of it. “You’re a complicated guy Saeran Choi,” he smiles and challenges him to another game.

“Did you  _ want _ to talk about it?” He asks earnestly.

“I  _ can _ ,” Nine shrugs, “I do pretty regularly with my therapist, or I did before I moved here.  I guess I’m going to have to find one of those here.”

“I could,” he pauses for a moment, “if it’s not weird I could maybe give you some numbers.”

“Yeah?” Nine gives him a cursory glance.  “You too huh?”

He nods without looking up. 

“Mental health bros?” Nine laughs and holds out a fist.  Saeran hesitates but bumps Nine’s fist, he laughs back

Nine finally wins a round and is shouting victorious shit talk at Saeran when he glares towards his door “You’re home early.”

Luciel pokes his head in the door, Nine gathers the sweater up off the floor and ties it around his waist and they make tense small talk before Saeren introduces him.  When he tells his brother he knows him his entire demeanor changes.

His body language shifts, like he’s ready to run or pounce and Nine finds himself starting to babble.

“Know is a  _ strong _ word,” he starts trying to explain himself. He wasn’t stalking him, god did Luciel think he was stalking him? 

Luciel interrupts him to ask Saeran to talk to him in the hall.  The smaller twin follows his brother out of the room and Nine lets himself fall into the chair he’d been sitting in.  A large part of him wanted to sneak up to the door and listen but he just sits until he hears their voices rising.

Nine pushes the door open carefully, not wanting to hit someone, or take Saeran down again.

“—and what if it’s not that?” Luciel was whisper shouting at his brother.

“Not everything is about you, it’s been three years,” Saeran shot back.

“Hey, so,” he says a little louder than needed, “I can just go if you get me my clothes?”

The brothers turn to look at him.

“Or at least my pants.  My phone is working, I can use the GPS to find my way home,” Nine glances down at the phone in his hand, “I think it might be close by actually.”

“Sorry,” Saeran says to him and pushes past his brother.

A door slams shut a few moments later and Luciel’s eyes narrow on Nine.  “I don’t know why you’re really here bu—”

“Honestly,” he interrupts him.  “He was just being nice, I dropped my phone and we both got soaked by a passing car and I was lost, and he was just trying to be helpful.” 

“He what?”  Luciel looks at him incredulously and pushes his glasses back up his nose.

“He offered to fix my phone, and let me dry off.”

Luciel is about to say something when Saeran rounds the corner and practically shoves his things into his hands before going back into his room.

“Change,” Luciel says, “I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s fine,” he smiles awkwardly, “it’s probably not so bad, I’ll just walk.”

Luciel’s waiting for him, his arms folded across his chest, foot tapping nervous energy when Nine steps out of the bathroom in his own clothing.  Saeran has closed and locked his bedroom door and Saeyoung watches him look around nervously, the things he’d borrowed are neatly folded on the bathroom counter behind him and he smiles at him when he finishes looking for his brother.

“It’s really not a problem,” he starts as a gust of wind throws heavy drops of water against the bunkers windows making him jump, “I can walk home.”

Saeyoung shrugs.  “It’s gotten worse, please let me take you home.”

Nine stands in front of him, his body language mimics Luciel’s and he watches Nine take him in. Purple eyes pass over him from hair to toes, he watches his jaw set and his forehead crease as Nine considers him.  Nine fumbles with his phone for a minute before thrusting it out to him, almost dropping it in the process.

“That’s, uh, that’s my address.  I’m not sure exactly how to get there from here.”

“I know where that is,” he shrugs, glancing at the address on the phone and pushing his hand away.

“I’ve only been here a month,” he explains, “I usually only go to work and home, and you know the store sometimes.”

Saeyoung shrugs and gestures for Nine to follow him.  They move through the small living room and he leads through a door into a large garage.

“Fuck me, Jesus Christ,” Nine mumbles under his breath and Saeyoung glances over his shoulder.

“There’s a church on the way, if you need to pray.” There’s a hint of a smirk on his face and Nine wonders if maybe he’s starting to lighten up because he remembers him.

“This is just a lot of cars, dude,” he says, his voice awed.  “I mean I thought when we got bought out I made a disgusting amount of money, but like wow.  I’m a little afraid to ask what you do.” Nine watches his back tense and quickly adds. “I won’t ask it’ll never live up to my imagination.”

Luciel opens the passenger door and watches him get in, he tucks his hair over his shoulder as he ducks into the car and he’s laughing softly to himself when Luciel settles behind the wheel.

“What?” He asks, pulling out of the garage.

“Sorry I was just thinking, if my Dad asks me what the stupidest thing I did today was I won’t be able to decide between getting in a car with a dude I barely talked to in University or following a boy home because he looked like a boy I barely talked to in university.”

Saeyoung snorts.  “You do a lot of stupid stuff?” He asks.

Nine shrugs, zipping his sweater up farther. “Not as often as people think, but ever since  _ you know _ ,” he rocks his head back and forth and rolls his eyes, “they just sort of assume.”

Saeyoung didn’t know.  The more Nine talked the more he vaguely remembered him from school, but he had to consider the possibility that the agency used that school as a feeder.  Nine could be dangerous  _ and _ telling the truth, that had been one of the first things he’s learned about field work.

“What are you doing?” He asks, blunt and to the point.

“Like with my life?” He snorts.

“No here.”

“In Korea, or at your house? Because I think we covered that already.”

He pulls the car over, they’re not far from the address Nine had given him, if it really was where he lived he was close by. “Korea, to start.”

“This is like exceptionally paranoid,” he frowns.

“Please just answer.”

“Making video games?” He says it like a question.

“What were you doing with my brother.”

“I don’t know, trying to make a friend, what are you so worried about.”

“He said you thought he was me.”

“Well he’s not wrong, when he helped me up I asked him if his name was Luciel, y’all are twins isn’t that kind of par for the course?”

He shrugs.

“Dude,” Nine exhales.  “You can like, google me.  Nine Shaughnessy. I was part owner of The Boys Club, an indie game company, we just got bought by a stupidly big company and I took a job with the branch here.  There’s like, a lot of media about honestly.”

Luciel pulls out his phone and he watches him with half a smile while he types in his name, pausing once and glancing towards him while he spells Shaughnessy for him.  He lets out a sharp whistle through his teeth and Nine watches his shoulders relax a little.

“See, I’m not stalking you, I’m just a ridiculous excuse for a human being,” he laughs.

But Luciel doesn’t laugh back, he frowns at him.

“Dear diary,” Nine mimes writing, “I thought I’d defused the situation with self deprecating humor and google only to be serial murdered by the man driving the car.”

He snorts, smiling a little and then forcing himself to look at him seriously. “No, I’m sorry it’s just, there are things you should know about my brother.”

It’s Nine’s turn to frown.  He shifts and the leather seat creaks as he faces Lucie, hands up shaking his head.  “Nope, there isn’t.”

“No really,” he says gently but Nine slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Whatever you think I need to know is none of my business if your brother doesn’t want to tell me himself.”

Saeyoung’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he pushes his hand away. “It’s just—”

“For a dude who was seriously paranoid about me getting into his personal business a minute ago you’re sure eager to toss your brother’s baggage out in the open.  Unless it’s some kind of 50 First Dates, amnesia shenanigans I don’t want to know.”

Saeyoung sighs.  “I’m only trying to—”

“Listen, is he dangerous?  Was I in danger today?  I know he sees a therapist because he offered to get me a number but if you’re just trying to give me a cigarette pack warning for Mental Illness keep it to yourself.  We’ve all been through some shit, ok?”

The car pulls back onto the road and Nine watches as Luciel seems to have some kind of internal dialogue before he speaks again.  “I’m sorry, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Nine laughs.  “Listen I’m sure you have good intentions, just speaking as the family head case  _ please don’t _ .” 

He shrugs, and the next few minutes pass in awkward silence.

“Hey that’s my house,” Nine chirps as he pulls into the driveway of a little home with a manicured lawn and a fenced back yard, it looked at least the size of the bunker.  “You want to come in and be a little nosey?”

“Uh, no thanks?” Luciel says, looking genuinely confused at him, and Nine shrugs getting out of the car.

“Alright then,” he smiles.  “Thanks for the drive, maybe I’ll see you around.” He gives him a little salute before walking away.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey,” Nina and Yoosung cheer when the little bell rings and Saeran walks into the cafe. 

It’s been a slow morning and Jaehee finds herself unphased by the RFA coffee club meeting in the corner, it didn’t hurt that Zen had been the first one there, reading over a new script and chatting while he waited for Yoosung to pick Nina up from the rink.  It helps more that Nina is with them. Jaehee’s silent partner who is always starving after her morning practice, she’d break even on pastries at this rate from Nina alone.

She sets a sweet iced drink Yoosung had already paid for in front of Saeran and smiles at the little group.  “Have you spoken to your friend lately?” She asks casually.

A week ago the twins had been quietly arguing about someone Saeran had been texting with, but by the looks on the rest of the faces she should perhaps have said nothing.

“You made a friend?” Nina coos at him like he’s a toddler, clapping her hands excitedly.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehee adds quickly.

Saeran shrugs and frowns at Nina, “Fuck off.”

“Who are they?” Yoosung smiles, leaning forward on the table.  “How’d you meet them?  Are they nice?”

“He was lost in the rain and I helped him out, it was no big deal,” Saeran groans.  Yoosung’s honest desire to see everyone happy never fails to make him feel guilty for being a grump.

Yoosung and Nina whisper the word  _ he _ at one another in a quiet squeal.

“Hmm,” Zen looks up, “what’s his name, do we know him?”

“No you don’t fucking know him,” Saeran grunts, “why would anyone we know be lost here?”

Zen shrugs, “Yoosung got lost in the park last week.”

“It was dark,” Yoosung squeaks.

Nina giggles.  “Come on Saeran what’s his name don’t make us ask Saeyoung.”

He groans, the three of them already have their phones out when the bell chimes again and Jaehee hurries back to the counter. 

“Hello again,” she greets her newest regular for the second time that morning, an American man who is usually one of her first customers of the day.

“I need all of the coffee you have, just,” he pauses and frowns, his bright coloured hair is neatly pulled back and he’s rolled up the sleeves of his blazer, “do you have a funnel, you could just dump it all directly down my throat.”

Jaehee smirks, she remembers those days almost fondly now, though she would never go back.  “Let me guess,” she remembers something about a presentation, “your meeting date is earlier than expected.”

The man flops most of his upper body across the counter and groans.  “ _ And _ now  _ I _ have to give the presentation, which would be fine, it’s my project, that’s cool, I’m cool, I know what I’m doing, but I have like a day to take all this and make it, ugh,” he gestures to a folder sticking out of his bag and groans, “ _ presentable _ .”

The coffee club are squealing and laughing, too lost in their own world to even notice the little drama playing out at the counter. She smiles and gets two of the biggest to-go cups she carries and fills them with the strongest coffee she has.

“My old boss at C&R used tactics like that,” she reminisces as she packages a large sweet bun.

“Nooooo,” the man moans softly before he jumps to his feet and almost propels himself across the counter.  “Wait, Yes!  Yes!  You said before, you worked for the devil, you worked for  _ the devil _ .”

Jaehee places the coffees and the pastry down in front of him and frowns. “Your presentation is for Mr. Han?”

The man nods pulling his bank card out of his pocket.

“Mr. Jumin Han?”

“The fucking devil,” he nods in agreement.

Jaehee sighs.

“Oh wow,” the man exhales heavily. “I honestly hate to ask but I have everything with me, could you  _ go over it _ ?  I’ve only been here a little while and this is a huge deal, please.  I will totally work for you while you do.  I’ll buy the entire pastry case, whatever you want, oh my god.”

Jaehee laughs.  She nods, it’s dead today and she wouldn’t mind the distraction.  She takes the file from the man. “I don’t mind, it shouldn’t take me long.  Just, don’t leave?”

Nine couldn’t believe his luck, the sweet lady that ran the cafe had worked for the Devil.  Truth be told Nine had no idea how bad he  _ really _ was.  Only the sudden meeting change and rumors around the studio compelled him to join in on the  _ devil _ moniker.  He’d met Jumin Han once a week ago and he’d seemed nice enough.  Though nice was a poor descriptor, he’d been very professional, strict, but he hadn’t seemed unkind in the approximately 8 minutes he’d stood across from him. 

Until he’d gotten the call about the meeting he might have even said they’d bonded in a shared eye roll at the eccentric department head.

Jaehee hands Nine his order, with an extra cup of coffee, asks him to stay in the cafe and then trades him a pot of coffee for the paperwork. “Could you offer refills to that table.  If you don’t want to I don’t mind, they’ll just come back and pour it themselves.”

Nine makes a horrified face and then laughs. He laughs harder when he looks at the table in the corner, the pink tipped hair very familiar.

“I  _ know _ who he  _ is _ ,” the bottle blonde boy in the corner gasps, and Nine starts to suspect that maybe they’re talking about him.

A lanky man with a white ponytail stretches out and flashes him a smile as he approaches.  Nine smiles back a little and tops up his coffee cup first, the other two have paper cups but they pop the lids off and hold them out across the table not even looking up as they continue in on Saeran.

“You don’t understand,” the guy with the blond hair is smiling so wide Nine thinks his face might break in half, “I heard he’s working on the new LOLOL expansion.”

“You told me you quit until after finals,” the woman next to him frowns.  She looks familiar, but Nine can’t place her.

Nine stands at the table for a minute, waiting for Saeran to look up at him to ask for something since he knows Saeran doesn’t drink coffee.  He’s staring intently at his hands trying to change the subject.  The tall man’s smile starts to wane and Nine decides to bump Saeran’s shoulder with his hip before he gets flustered and starts to babble at them.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and Nine laughs.

“At least neither of us are wet this time,” he chuckles. “Do you come here often.”

He turns at the sound of Nine’s voice and scowls for a moment before he realizes who it is.  “Oh,” he says, his face softening.

The boy across the table has turned bright red and is frantically tapping the arm of the woman next to him.  The woman next to him is simply smiling at Nine.  It’s the tall man who speaks first leaning against the table. 

“So,” he tilts his head taking her in, “I guess you’re the new  _ friend _ ?”

“I am,” he shrugs his shoulders and smiles, “and I  _ don’t know any of you _ ,” he says a little loudly after a moment of awkward quiet.

“I’m Yoosung Kim, and I’m a huge fan,” the blonde smiles reaching across the table.

Nine shakes his hand laughing while the girl beside him shoves him back in his seat. Saeran blushes and points across to the woman, “that’s Nina Chu-Kim, she’s Yoosung’s wife, and he’s Zen.”

Nine smiles at Zen and then looks back to Nina a dawning realization, “You’re a figure skater,” he says clapping his hands together, “I watched you at the World’s last year with my girls, is it weird if I ask for your autograph or something?  Glory, uh my daughter, would  _ flip _ out.”

Nina laughs and smiles and Yoosung practically beams.

“Would you like  _ my _ autograph?” Zen asks, smiling wide.

Saeran and Yoosung both snort, Nine chuckles.

He frowns.

“I’m really sorry,” Nine says, forcing himself not to laugh.  “I really don’t know what you do, are you a skater too?”

Zen huffs and his bangs flutter out a little with the force of it.

“He’s American you idiot,” Saeran groans. “You’re not even a fucking Idol.”

Zen grabs his hand and pulls Nine a little towards him. “You’ll have to come to my new show,” he beams and he doesn’t miss the eye rolls on the other side of the table or the way Saeran’s fingers drum across the tabletop.

“You’re a,” he draws out the word trying to think, “a performer of some kind?”

Zen’s blinding smile falters a little and a call from the far side of the shop saves him.  Nine waves and gives Saeran a little push without waiting for an answer and then turns on his heel and moves quickly towards Jaehee and the files.

“This is very thorough,” she reaches for the coffee pot.

“That was quick.”

“It’s like riding a bike,” she shrugs.  “He’s going to ask you for profit projections, he’ll want something more concrete than what you’ve got here but everything else is above and beyond what he’ll be expecting from you.”

“I don’t have access to the numbers he’ll want, I told them that.  My AD does, he was supposed to give the presentation but he’s not even in the country until next week, when the meeting was scheduled for.” Nine sighs.

“Hmm,” Jaehee considers.  “Despite his reputation he’s not unreasonable.  It’s your project; he did this on purpose in case there’s something wrong with you.”

“I fucking told them it was stupid not to have me do the presentations.”

“Can I ask why they chose someone beneath you, if they’ve told you?”

“They don’t want to say it’s because I’m foreign but it is, they’re worried about my grasp of the language and I’m kind of abrasive sometimes, there’s also my misspent youth, my sexuality and-” Nine snorts.  “He’ll probably google me right.”

Jaehee laughs. “He has people for that, but yes, what will he find.”

“Ugh,” Nine groans.  “Half the reason I came here was to get away from everyone knowing about that one time I was kind of in a cult, also all that shit is under my deadname so there’s the whole surprise I have a uterus thing. Which is why I don’t have access to the numbers yet, delays the background check or whatever.”

Jaehee drops the spoon she was holding. “Oh.”

“God,” Nine groans. 

“Oh no,” she recovers quickly, “no no.  Mr. Han will already have known before he asked for you to present.  You wouldn’t have gotten this far if he thought it was a problem.  He appears harsher than he is.”

“Bye Jaehee,” the door jangles, Yoosung is holding it open and Nina waves as she walks through.

“Nice to meet you Nine,” Yoosung smiles following his wife out.

Jaehee and Nine both wave to them as the door swings shut.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Mr. Han knows what he wants he wouldn’t be asking to see you if he hadn’t already decided you were worth his investment.  Speak to your superiors about the numbers though I doubt that will lose you his interest.” She smiles and slides the file across the table.  “Mr.  Han cares very little about your gender or your sexuality, I’m certain you have nothing to worry about there.”

“You have no idea what this means to me Miss. Kang.”

“Please do not mention it,” her face turns serious, “really don’t tell him I helped you.  I’d rather not give him the satisfaction.”

Nine laughs.

*

[Grumpa Choi]  _ is online. _

[Grumpa Choi][22:47:58]: Nina left an autograph with me for your kid.

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:48:49]: Kill me.

[Grumpa Choi][22:50:23]: Any preferences?

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:50:34]: A pair of boots and 2 frozen rats.

[Grumpa Choi][22:51:47]: Sounds complicated.

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:52:03]: I was going for Shakespearean.

[Grumpa Choi][22:52:47]: A comedy then?

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:53:07]: Story of my life.

[Grumpa Choi][22:53:37]: Work is still shit?

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:53:58]: heaping piles of dino dung.

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:54:04]: I mean I’m done now, I think, I don’t know, I can’t stop staring at it trying to figure out where I fucked up.

[Grumpa Choi][22:55:33]: Go to bed.

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:55:59]: Holy shit is it that bad?  You have that little faith in me.

[Gumpa Choi][22:56:27]: Fuck off.

[9 snakes in a trench coat][22:56:49]: When you give the eulogy at my funeral I hope you’re this eloquent.

[Grumpa Choi]  _ is offline _ .

Saeran drops his phone beside him on the couch, Nine was obviously feeling better. He was finished and self-deprecating and if he stuck around Nine would just stay up all night making stupid jokes.  He’d noticed his number in his phone a day or two after they’d met.  It had been another two days before he texted him and only a day later before his brother had noticed and gotten on his case about it. 

“You’re making that face again,” Saeyoung chuckles leaning over the back of the couch.

“It’s your fault,” he grunts, tucking his feet underneath him.

His brother balances a bowl of ice cream on his head and crawls over the back of the couch.  “Oh no, I don’t make you make  _ this _ face,” he snorts as Saeran grabs the bowl from him.

“Shut up.”

“Do you  _ like _ him?”

“No.”

“Yeah Nine’s dumb and he probably smells like flowers or sweets right?  Gross.”  Saeyoung cackles.

There’s a moment where he opens his mouth, he almost corrects him, almost says  _ no, he smells like coffee and thunderstorms _ , but he thinks better of it.  It’s not that he likes Nine, not the way his brother means at least, but correcting him would just prove his point.

It’s not like he couldn’t notice those things about people without having a crush on them, like how he knew  _ Yoosung smelled like antiseptic and lavend—  _ that was a shitty example.

“God you’re fucking stupid,” he says instead.

Saeyoung throws his arms out, the bag of chips he’d been holding drops to the floor and he flops backwards onto the couch, flinging his foot into his brother’s lap almost knocking his ice cream out of his hands. “Oh,” he groans, “you got me.”

“Stop.”

There’s a shuffling from the kitchen as Saeyoung lifts his head. “No, you have to clap your hands and say  _ God Seven is always right _ ,” he wiggles his foot and Saeran lifts the icecream bowl into the air. 

“I’m not going to say that,” he pushes his brother’s foot onto the floor and moves farther away from him as another man comes around to sit in the chair across from them.

“Your brother is right,” V says, “you have been smiling at your phone an awful lot lately.”

“Because he  _ likes _ a boy,” Saeyoung sings.

V frowns and Saeran throws a pillow at his twin.

“Is that really a good idea Saeran?” V leans forward but he’s not really talking to Saeran, he’s looking at Saeyoung.

Saeyoung has the good sense not to answer, he only shrugs.

“It’s not _like_ _that,”_ Saeran almost shouts, “and even if it _was_ , how is it any of your business?”

“V doesn’t mean it that way,” Saeyoung says quickly.

Saeran doesn’t respond he simply glares at his brother.  It didn’t matter how he  _ meant _ it, Saeran liked talking to Nine.  Nine didn’t treat him like he was made of glass, not like almost everyone else.  Even when they joked around, even when they teased him it was like they were all ready for him to implode.  It had been months since he had an episode, over a year since it had been any worse than a panic attack. 

There was little he experienced that couldn’t be combated with a pill, or a day in his room, at worst a call to his doctor.  But every bad day was still punctuated by the whispers of his friends, his brother hovering at arms length and the suffocating concern of V.  He might have found it forgivable if it didn’t seem like a selfish attempt at redemption on V’s part.

He hadn’t told Nine everything, but any time something new came out his new friend took it in stride and treated him the same.  He didn’t need a keeper, he saw his therapist regularly, he wasn’t a danger to anyone, that person didn’t exist anymore.  Whatever was left of that person whispered quietly at the back of his mind sometimes but he had the tools to ignore him now. 

It was nice to have someone he could talk to about those things, someone who didn’t hear  _ I’m dangerous _ , when he said he was having a bad day.  It was nice to be able to let those things come up in conversation, not to plaster them as a warning before every topic change. 

He palms his phone and stands.

“Please, I didn’t mean to upset you,” V starts.

Saeran steps onto the couch and then over the back and leaves.

V frowns at Luciel, who looks sheepish.  When they hear the bedroom door slam shut they both cringe.

“I thought you’d said you were dealing with this,” V sighs.

Luciel shrugs.  “I am dealing with this but,” he pauses and fishes around the floor for his bag of chips, “I don’t know V, is it really that big of a deal?”

“What about when he finds out about him?” V’s voice is concerned. 

Saeyoung shrugs and his voice pitches up. “I don’t know, I think Nine’ll be ok?” He’s practically squeaking as he finishes.  “I think Saeran’s told him some of it, they have a lot in common?”

“What does that mean Luciel?” V leans forward and gives him a look that puts him in mind of a disapproving parent.

“Well I did a background check,” he shrugs, his voice normalizing. “He said some things when we met and I,  _ maybe, _ called Vanderwood to verify if what he said about school was right and, he—They, uh, well—”

“Spit it out.”

“Nine was in a cult,” he says.

V pinches the bridge of his nose. “And you’re ok with them being  _ friends _ .”

He shrugs.  “It was  _ before _ I met him in school, there are a lot of news reports about it.  He’s really got her shit together V.  He’s  _ literally _ not that person anymore.”

“Stop rationalizing and tell me if you’re ok with your brother talking to this man.”

“I’m not,” Luciel says.  “I don’t like it but—”

“But what Luciel, I’ll speak with him; I don’t think this is good for him.”

“No,” Luciel says with more conviction than he feels.  “He’s, I, when I drove him home I didn’t know about his past, I tried to let Nine know about Saeran but,  _ I don’t know _ .  _ He _ gave  _ me _ shit.  I think it might be good for Saeran to get to know him.”


	4. Chapter 4

Saeran’s been in his room for about 20minutes, staring at his ceiling when his phone rings.  It takes him a minute to remember where he’d dropped it after slamming the door.  He could hear V and his brother talking, about him he assumed.  Worried probably, no doubt one of them would be knocking soon.  His hands find the textured rubber of his phone case and he answers.

“Go to sleep,” he growls.

“Hey Chief,” Nine chirps at him, “no can do, keep me company.”

“You’re going to regret not sleeping when you look like shit at that meeting tomorrow,” he scolds him.

“Jokes on you, I was  _ planning _ to look like shit tomorrow morning.”

“Nine,” he sighs.  Nine should be sleeping but he doesn’t want to hang up.

“First rule of cult club, tell me what’s bothering you?” Nine jokes but Saeran can hear the concern in his voice.

Different than the concern he’s used to.  Nine’s concern is genuinely for him not a worry about what he might do.  He’s not worried that Saeran might hurt himself, or his brother.  Nine only wants to help him through whatever is bothering him right now.  He feels guilty, he doesn’t want to tell him suddenly, especially not that they were talking about  _ him _ .

“Just my brother’s friend, he’s given himself Dad status and it’s pissing me off.”

The noise Nine makes suggests he knows Saeran’s not quite telling him the truth.  “I’m an  _ adult _ ,” he says lowering his voice, “you can’t buy me hot dog man!”

“Are you quoting a meme at me?” He asks dryly.

“Yes,” Nine laughs. “I’m trying to cheer you up, is it working.”

“No,” he deadpans, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face.

“So I was thinking,” Nine says changing the subject. “Is it cool if I come over tomorrow, you know, if things go well.”

“Really?” He scoffs.

“I mean I don’t really have any friends to celebrate with so I thought  _ you’d do _ .”

“Hmm,” he considers.

“I don’t have to, sorry I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, I’m just kind of shame eating before I sleep because I laid down and realized I hadn’t eaten since that pastry this morning when I saw you and then I remembered that I won’t have anything to do for a few days after this meeting.”

“And you wanted to hang out with  _ me _ ?”  He doesn’t mean to sound as surprised as he does.

“Well, yeah,” Nine laughs. “If that’s ok with brother dearest, because I have nothing here and it’s too fucking quiet so I thought if you were cool with it—”

“Yeah sure,” he’s talked to Nine enough times to know he’s nervous and if he doesn’t interrupt him now he could go on forever.

There’s a pause and he thinks he hears a sigh of relief. “Cool.”

“What did you mean shame eating?”

“So if your brother and his Dad friend are still out there—”

“Are you eating take-out?  Did you order a Pizza in bed?  When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

“Calm down, Chief, are you sure you’re not the Dad friend?” Nine snorts.

“Nine.”

“I’m eating vegetables right now,” he mumbles something after that Saeran doesn’t catch.

“With what?” he asks suspiciously.

“On my left over Pizza?”

“God,” he groans, “you’re as bad as Saeyoung.”

Nine snorts.  “Ok, fine but –”

“Go the fuck to bed.”

*

The gym is empty this early in the morning and Zen kind of likes it that way.  There’s only one other person here. They came in halfway through his workout. He doesn’t mean to watch them but he recognizes them from somewhere.  They’re wearing a thick hair band and their hair is piled on top of their head, he’s watched them stretch, and warm up and when they wals past him, to the far corner of the little gym with the heavy bag, the light shines purple off his messy bun and he realizes who he is.

“Hey,” he calls out.  Nine doesn’t turn, doesn’t even flinch like maybe he’s heard but he’s ignoring him, Nine just keeps walking.

He finishes his reps. Nine was the friend of Saeran’s from the coffee shop, the one that Saeran had been talking to; the one Yoosung had practically fallen on himself to talk to.  He hadn’t seen him here before.  But there he was pulling on a pair of gloves and squaring off with the heavy bag.

“Hey,” he calls again; Nine throws a few tentative jabs, a kick, an uppercut. “Hey,” he calls out reaching to tap him on the shoulder.

Nine grabs his wrist while he turns on Zen yanking him foreword, he struggles for a minute to get his footing but Nine lets him go just as suddenly.  Frowning Nine reaches up and pops a wireless ear bud out of his ear.

“Oh,” his brow furrows as he realizes that he recognizes Zen, ‘you, uh, you know Saeran, yeah?”  His posture is defensive.

Zen smiles.  “You’re the guy from Jaehee’s.  I saw you hitting the bag, I thought you might want some pointers.”

Nine snorts.  “Ok,” he bobs his head and smiles, “that’s cute but I’m ok my dude.”

“You’re elbows were a little loose,” he points out.

Nine laughs this time.  “Alright, I’ll give you that, didn’t realize I was being judged but I’m cool.”

He shrugs and opens his mouth, he wants to suggest Nine widen his feet, use his whole body to throw a punch but he turns back to the heavy bag and drops into his stance.

“Hold the bag tough guy,”  Nine says with hint of a smirk curling his lips.  

Zen does as he’s asked. the sound of Nine’s jabs echo in the empty gym.  Nine throws two jabs and an upper cut, bobs and switches hands, bobs again and throws a kick mid bag.  Each hit reverberates through the bag and then him, each one jolting him roughly, snapping his teeth together and making him shift his footing to not be pushed back.  

Each hit he lands against the bag is accompanied by a sharp exhale of air and Zen takes a step back.  Nine glances over his the bag at him.  “Any tips,” he laughs, it’s not unkind. “Want to critique my form?”

“Sorry,” Zen says sheepishly. 

He glances at his watch.  “It’s cool, you thought I was a skinny nerd, and you’ve learned a valuable lesson.”

“I didn’t mean—”

Nine smiles at him. “No  _ really _ ,”Nine claps him on the shoulder and Zen watches him check the time on his watch and frown.  “It’s cool, don’t worry about it.  See you around?”

Nine slips the gloves off and flashes one last smile before he disappears into the locker room.  He makes his way back to where he’s left his water and picks up where he’s left off.  It was silly he decides, he shouldn’t have started offering unsolicited advice; especially not to a stranger he didn’t really know at the gym.  He should have realized Nine was listening to music and left him alone.

He’s almost finished his workout when Nine comes out of the locker room.  He stops near Zen and watches him for a moment.  His hair is twisted into a tight bun on the back of his head and he’s wearing most of a suit with a graphic t-shirt, Zen notices he’s put on eyeliner.

“I didn’t mean to be shitty,” Nine smiles at him, “you weren’t trying to be creepy-gym-guy, but I really do have to go, gotta make a deal with the devil and all that.”

“Oh,” he remembers something Jaehee had said after Nine had left.  “Good luck, don’t take anything he says seriously.”

Nine raises an eyebrow and his shoulders shake with a little laugh. “I mean it’s an actual _serious_ _work_ meeting, but I’ll keep that in mind”

*

He does not like this man, this ridiculous man with his ridiculous team building exercises.  Jumin didn’t have time to waste on  _ whatever _ this man thought would result from insisting people play the last song they’ve listened to on their phone, it defiantly didn’t  _ hype _ Jumin up, these people seemed to listen largely to the sound of harmonized sobbing.

The last time he had been here they’d played a word association game.  Jumin had shared a small moment of disgust with the American man who was leading the presentation today; he’d decided then that he would likely invest.  Despite the department head being an insufferable fool, the people in charge of the projects, like Mr. Shaughnessy, all seemed to have their heads firmly in the right place. 

The numbers also spoke for themselves, and interest showed no sign of waning.  If Yoosung had been any indication, and reports from his assistant assured him he was, the fans of the company’s products were incredibly loyal and the people who had followed Mr. Shaughnessy from his previous venture seemed equally so as the company had seen a spike in sales shortly after the announcement that he’d joined on the team.

Once the nonsense settled and the presentation started in earnest Jumin was pleasantly surprised.  The original presentation had been more than a week away, with the project’s Assistant Director whom Jumin had met multiple times.  He’d started to wonder why an AD would lead every meeting so he forced their hand. 

He’d done this before, but rarely was anyone as prepared as Mr. Shaughnessy seemed to be.  He was certainly nervous, and he couldn’t say he much cared for his personal style, but he was well informed and incredibly thorough.  He had design mock ups, endorsement proposals, and even a rough production schedule in place.  The only thing he found lacking were his numbers.

“I am  _ incredibly _ sorry Mr. Han, I did try to get those numbers for you,  _ have been trying _ to get them since you adjusted the date but I just don’t have the clearance for that information yet.”

Jumin watches the way he chews on his lip, the way the water glass in his hand wobbles as he sets it down.  His breathing gets shallow.  Jumin shrugs.  “That seems foolish, to give you a project with no access to profit margins, no ability to properly budget.”

He chuckles.  He’d thought certainly they’d benched the man because he didn’t grasp the language, he’d seen Nine, as he was known to his followers on tripter, in interviews and he knew he was composed and well spoken in english.  Nine was charming in Korean, his accent was off and he was certainly still new to the language, there were colloquial expressions he tried to use that didn’t translate but he could not fathom this simple hiccup being the only thing.

“I think that’s the main reason my AD was supposed to do this presentation,” he admits.  “It’s just an issue with my background check, not a big deal just always takes a little longer.”

“Oh,” Jumin remembers, his father had expressed concerns when they’d discussed it, Nine Shaughnessy did have a rather colourful past, but that had been in his youth, it was not as though it affected him now, and Jumin could hardly judge the man given his own circle of friends. “I assume you’re referring to the situation with the religious fanatics.”

His face drops for a moment and then he recovers. “I suppose that’s not  _ that _ hard to find,” he sighs, “I’m not surprised you know.  I hope it’s not an issue, it’s just not quite long enough ago so it brings up some red flags in a background check.  I can have my AD talk to the department head and we can probably get you those numbers by Monday.”

“That would be agreeable, yes.”  Jumin glances at his watch, the meeting had run late thanks to the man in charge and his foolish games.  He furrows his brow and looks back at the preson in front of him.  “I don’t think there will be any problem, you did quite well today Mr. Shaughnessy.”

He shakes his hand, a smirk forming at the way he stares at Jumin a little lost. He’s not ignorant of the things people say about him, he doesn’t begrudge the truths of his personality but it was nice to see the way he seemed surprised for the compliment.

He leaves without another word, he had lunch with V and his best friend was almost always early.  He’d seemed concerned when he suggested they meet and Jumin was curious as to what he wanted to discuss.


	5. Chapter 5

Nine had texted him an hour ago that he was leaving, and asked if he needed anything, so Saeran had deactivated the gate and gone back to the ridiculous text based game he’d been playing.  He’d almost forgotten that Nine was coming over at all when the door to the bunker swung open.

“You’re washing machine is in the garage right,” he’s already unbuttoning his pants when he looks over the back of the couch.

“Is this a habit now?  You just come over and take your pants off?”

“Fuck off; I spilled coffee on myself like 3 minutes ago.”

“You’re a fucking mess, Nine,” he snorts. 

Nine tosses his jacket at Saeran and when he pulls it off he’s already disappearing into the garage.  He follows, the jacket smells like coffee and he thinks he should probably put it in with the pants.  Nine’s pulled off his t-shirt and is standing in front of the washer in his underwear frowning at the washer.

Saeran gives him a little push out of the way and drops the jacket in before he starts the washer.  Nine snorts and shoves him back. “Thanks Chief.”

When they get back to the living room he notices the bag Nine had dropped on the floor.  Nine reaches in and pulls out a t-shirt with an unfamiliar logo, pulls it over his head and leans against the back of the couch smiling down at him.

“You want to tell me how your presentation went,” Saeran frowns up at him.

Nine does a sloppy somersault over the back off the couch and laughs. “You know it went well because I’m here, gracing you with my presence.”

“Spilling things and bogarting my washing machine you mean?”

He laughs.  “Do you have anything that’s really fucking bad for you I could shove in my face?  I promise you I ate a salad for lunch but now I’m dying.”

He groans and shakes his head.  “What are we doing anyway?  Why did you want to come here?”

Nine shrugs. “I don’t know, we don’t have to do anything, it’s just too quiet at my place and I’ve never lived alone before. I thought if I was going spend time doing nothing might as well do it where there are ambient people noises.”

Saeran quirks an eyebrow at him. “Ambient people noises?”

“You know like you hear footsteps and you don’t think about it because the other person in the house is probably getting a drink or whatever, or like the sound of someone breathing across the room while you read, or  _ whatever _ . The twins are always making some kind of sound, Reggie never shuts up.”

“I wonder where she gets that from,” he snorts.

“Fuck off and feed me.” Nine laughs.

“Fine, I think Saeyoung left some chips here somewhere,” he groans standing and tossing the remote to him.  “You know how all this shit works.”

The chips sit on the table untouched for a little over an hour, Nine had put some sci-fi show he’d watched a hundred times on and flopped back on the couch with his legs resting on Saeran’s lap.  They talked briefly about how well the presentation had gone before losing themselves in their phones.  Nine would laugh and show him memes or read out stupid stories he’d come across and occasionally he would laugh out loud at something in his game and read it to Nine.

Eventually he hears the crinkling of the foil packaging and the feet slip out of his lap as Nine moves to sit cross-legged on the couch to watch TV.  “This is my favorite episode,” Nine smiles not looking at him as he shoves a handful of his brother’s chips into his mouth.

He watches as Nine’s profile almost folds in on itself and he turns slowly, his face frozen in comic horror.

“Something wrong?” he asks trying his best not to laugh.

“The fuck did you feed me?” Nine asks forcing himself to swallow.

“Honey Buddah Chips, Saeyoung and Yoosung love them, I’m pretty sure that’s all my brother eats when he’s working.”

“They’re terrible,” he grimaces and sets the bag on the table.

He goes to the fridge and comes back with a can of soda for Nine. “I think maybe they’re better if you eat them with PhD Pepper, that’s what he  _ says _ at least.”

He settles back down on the couch beside Nine and watches him try them again, this time with the can of soda.  His lip curls up and he shakes his head. “Nope, still bad.  Still  _ very _ bad.”

He laughs this time and Nine shoves him gently.  They try to watch the episode playing out on the TV, his favorite he’d said before he’d been distracted by the chips.  But it’s barely 15 minutes later before he hears the rustle of the bag and he watches him absently shove a few more chips in his mouth and then frown and shake his head.

Nine does this a few more times before he hears him mumble  _ god these are gross _ under his breath.

“Then stop eating them,” he grunts.

“I’m trying,” Nine laughs but a few minutes later the bag rustles again.

“ _ Nine _ ,” he scolds.

“I can’t stop,” he chuckles shoving another handful in his mouth.

Saeran reaches for the bag, he’s going to throw them away so he doesn’t have to listen to Nine complain about them anymore, but he swats his hand away. “What the fuck?”

“No you can’t take them, I can’t let the chips win,” he whines.

He reaches for the bag again but Nine grabs it off the table and shoves a few more chips into his mouth.

“Jesus Christ, you don’t even like them,” he tries to force himself not to laugh.

“I  _ know _ ,” he groans, “but I can’t stop, not now.”

He snatches the bag out of Nine’s hand and steps up on the coffee table holding it out of his reach. “Just let me throw them away,” Saeran’s smiling now as Nine stands up and tries to reach them.

“Come on, are they drugged?” He laughs tugging at Saeran’s shirt, trying to pull him back down to where he can reach.

“What?” he laughs, “No.”

“You have to tell me,” he cackles standing on the couch and pulling Saeran towards him so that they were both wobbling off balance trying to support one another.

“Tell you what?” He laughs stumbling slightly on his toes trying to hold the bag farther above his head.

“If.  They’re.  Drugged.” Each word punctuated by a grab at the bag.  They stop for a moment to get their footing, one hand braced on each other’s shoulders. “I was an accidental drug addict, you’re morally obligated to tell me if you drugged my potato chips,” Nine insists making another grab at the bag.

“They’re not fucking drugged,” he cackles as they both collapse onto the couch, the springs groan in protest as they land in a heap.

“I’m a  _ parent _ ,” Nine shouts climbing over him after the bag Saeran’s still holding above his head, “you can’t treat me like this.”

He’s still cackling as he climbs over him reaching for the bag of chips he doesn’t even really want while making small sounds of celebration.

“I think we’ve seen about enough of this,” a voice says firmly from somewhere near the door, it’s followed by a muffled chuckle.

Nine snatches the bag of chips out of Saeran’s hand while he’s distracted and scrambles back to sit on his heels as Saeran pulls his legs out from under Nine and hugs his knees to his chest for a minute before standing up.  Nine manages to shove another terrible handful of chips in his mouth before Saeran plucks the bag out of his hand and takes it to the kitchen. “No fair,” he laughs hanging over the back of the couch to watch him. 

“I’m sure you understand that’s not really an appropriate thing to laugh about,” a blue haired man frowns at him through wire framed glasses.

Nine shrugs, “ _ I  _ thought it was funny.”

“But you  _ can _ see that it may be inappropriate?” He presses.

“I mean, it happened to me so I think I earned the right to decide how appropriate my joke was,” he mumbles.

The other man, the one who’d been laughing into his hand steps out from behind the frowning one and Nine bites his tongue to stop whatever snide comment he might have thought to make. 

“Well,” he says, a small smile forming, “I hadn’t expected to see you again today.”

Nine can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth when Saeran steps into his line of sight. “You didn’t tell me you knew the Devil.”

Jumin Han lets out a short bark of laughter. “Is that what they call me?”

“The gate wasn’t active,” the blue man scolds Saeran.

He shrugs. “Forgot, whatever, it’s not a big deal.”  He rests his hand on the back of the couch.

“Your brother would disagree,” Jumin frowns. “You know he keeps the gate locked for a reason.”

“A stupid reason,” Saeran mumbles.

“Whoa man, don’t talk back to Mom and Dad,” Nine whispers and Saeran covers his mouth to hide his smile.

Jumin glances between them and shrugs. “This is fine, Jihyun.  There’s nothing to worry about here, Mr. Shaughnessy has earned  _ my _ trust already.  I think off colour jokes are your only concern.”

Nine tries to keep himself from looking smug.

“And if those jokes tr—”

“Yes yes,” Nine snaps almost vaulting over the couch, “we all know how trauma recovery works, blah blah triggers are serious.  I know how they work, he knows, you obviously know.  It’s fine, we’ll behave, go take Mom out to dinner we’ll be fine.”

Saeran tugs on his shirt and clears his throat, Jumin glances towards the door, and the man they’d called Jihyun glares at Nine.

“I’m still not wearing pants,” he says quietly and Saeran lets out a small laugh.

“I think everything here is fine,” Jumin says a little strained.  “Come along  _ Dad _ the kids are fine.”

Jihyun shakes his head. “Don’t encourage them Jumin.”

“You can tell Saeyoung that everything here was fine,” Jumin continues, his tone the verbal equivalent of an eye roll, “the children were  _ roughhousing _ .”

Saeran can see a deep blush creep up Nine’s neck. He watches the way it colours his ears before spreading across his freckled cheeks.

He can hear Jumin whisper something about how Saeran deserved to have  _ fun _ as they make their way out.  Saeran had always liked Jumin Han.  When the door closes behind them Saeran makes his way to his brother’s workroom to set the gate behind them.  Nine is on the couch in pajama pants, his face buried in the knees hugged tight to his chest.

“Are you embarrassed?” He asks softly.  Tries not to sound surprised, he hadn’t known Nine very long but the man had been so open Saeran is a little surprised he’s actually capable of embarrassment.

“Jumin Han thinks he walked in on us fooling around,” he mumbles into his knees, “I just spent over an hour convincing him I was a good investment and now he thinks-” Nine cuts himself off with a groan.

“You could have corrected him,” Saeran shrugs, a small amused smile spreading across his face.

“I froze,” he whines, “I couldn’t decide if it would be more undermining to admit I spilled coffee all over myself or that I was making out with some dude I’ve only just met.”

Saeran cocks an eyebrow, this is cute, Nine flustered and embarrassed.  “I don’t think Jumin will hold it against you.”

“They’re going to tell your brother we were fooling around,” Nine points out, tilting his head so Indigo eyes stare out under a furrowed brow.

He can’t help but compare those eyes to Yoosung’s, hard not to think of him considering the conversation.  Nine’s eyes were different, not wide and innocent like the boy he’d had a crush on when his brother brought him home.  Nine’s eyes where wolfish and dark, they narrow on him and he glances away. “So?”

“I dunno he seemed kind of protective of you,” Nine mumbles.

“I’m not scared of my brother,” Saeran insists.

“You’re a little scared of your brother,” Nine says, the hint of a smile in the crinkle of his eyes.

Saeran rolls his eyes. “I’m not scared of my brother thinking I kissed a cute guy while he was away for work.”

Nine’s eyes go big for a moment before he buries his face in his knees again, “Oh my god,” he mutters.  His long lair is still slicked back from work, pulled into a loose bun and Saeran can see his neck and ears flush red with a blush.

It’s a satisfying reaction.  There’s something very satisfying about how flustered it seems to make Nine that people might think they were more than friends.  Saeran hadn’t felt that in a long time.  He reaches out and makes an attempt to loosen Nine’s grip on his needs, to get him to relax. “It’s fine,” he insists softly.

When Nine finally looks at him, his face is red, his dark eyebrows drawn together, “You called me cute,” he mumbles.

“You are,” Saeran snorts, “you know you are or you wouldn’t dress the way you do.”

“Yeah,” Nine shrugs, “but  _ you _ think I’m cute.”

Saeran swallows, he shrugs and turns to try to watch the show playing out on the TV. “Yeah so?”  He can feel his face start to heat up and he wonders how Nine managed to turn the tables on him so fast.  When Nine doesn’t answer he feels the sudden unexplainable urge to explain himself but he can’t find the right words so he just sighs and mumbles, “I just meant it wouldn’t be so bad if people thought we kissed or  _ whatever _ .”

Nine chuckles and he jumps, the sound is so close, he hadn’t even noticed the couch dip when he’d moved closer, but Nine’s close enough he can hear the wet part of his lips before he speaks, breath ghosting warm across his cheek. “Have you thought about it?”

Saeran draws his bottom lip between his teeth.  He’d pretended he hadn’t, he’d swore up and down to his brother that he just enjoyed talking to Nine but-

He nods.

Nine ducks his head, presses his forehead to Saeran’s shoulder and chuckles softly, Saeran thinks he maybe even feels the soft brush of lips. “Saeran do yo-”

He doesn’t wait for Nine to finish his question, he turns before he loses his nerve, his whole face is burning, he’s sure his blush is deep enough to rival Yoosung Kim but he pushes it down.  The nerves, the embarrassment, all of it stuffed to the back of his mind as his fingers find their way into Aurora coloured hair.  His eyes already closed as their noses bump together, as Nine’s thumb brushes across his cheek and their lips meet.

Nine is all give and take as Saeran draws himself onto his knees.  Their tongues sliding together in a practiced rhythm, as though this was their hundredth and not their first kiss.  He shifts, shuffling forward and into Nine’s lap, pressing him back against the soft back of the old couch as it groans in protest.  Nine’s hands slide down his back, fingers digging in with each little noise Saeran manages to draw out of him before they rest on his hips.

He holds on firmly and Saeran can feel Nine shift underneath him, feels him press his thighs together as he swallows Nine’s moans.

When he pulls away to catch his breath Nine’s face is just as red as his.  His eyes heavily lidded, lips swollen and slick as his head lolls back and his chest heaves. 

“Shit,” Nine pants tracing Saeran’s hip bones with his thumbs.

Saeran had forgotten about kissing people he wanted to kiss, had forced himself to forget about his misadventure with Yoosung  _ years _ ago.  He leans forward, presses his temple to Nine’s cheek, peppers his throat with a trail of soft chaste kisses as he feels his courage wane.

Nine doesn’t press him when he shifts to move out of his lap.  Nine doesn’t tease him or ask him if something is wrong when Saeran settles in beside him and gathers his phone off the table.  Saeran waits for him to ask if he’s ok, if he wanted to do that again, or talk about it.  Nine just grabs his own phone off the table, and hits the button that tells the TV to keep playing the stupid show they hadn’t really been watching.

Nine’s feet find their way back into Saeran’s lap as he lays back down and goes back to scrolling through his phone.  

“Hey,” Nine says a short while later and Saeran can feel his shoulders tense. 

He waits for Nine to try to  _ talk it out _ , “Yeah?”

Nine sits up, his fingers find Saeran’s empty hand and twine inside his as he holds out his phone for Saeran to see a picture of a very large lizard, “Look at this weird dog.”

Saeran sighs and rolls his eyes as Nine rests his head against Saeran’s shoulder and starts scrolling through his phone again.  

He doesn’t know what any of this means, but Saeran likes it.


	6. Chapter 6

Fuck 6am.

Saeran sees it too often.  4am, 5am, sometimes he falls back to sleep. Sometimes he manages not to dream. He’s always awake by 6am.  6am is dark, it’s cold, and everything hurts. Everything feels wrong, and shadows are misleading at 6am.

He fixes the blankets he’d kicked off in the night. Pulls them up to his chin and hugs a pillow to his chest.  Saeran was good at routine, 6am was too early to get out of bed so he’ll lay here with his phone until his bladder tells him otherwise.  Curl up with the pillow clutched to him like a lover and a phone full of tripts and texts and that crashing sound in the distance which is probably his imagination and not something falling in the kitchen.

Except that is definitely something  _ falling _ in the kitchen.

It takes him a moment, a terrifying moment of his heart thudding against his chest to remember that Nine had stayed over.  Nine had slept in  _ his _ room, and that’s why this pillow smells like stale honey and bad breath.  He yawns and stretches and winces at the tightness of his muscles before he shuffles out of the room.

His eyes barely open, mouth still downturned in a deep set early morning frown. He bumps into a wall habitually turning the way he would had he left his own room. He worries, in the pit of his stomach it sits like a rock, that maybe this commotion has something to do with last night.

It doesn’t.  Nine is simply, well,  _ Nine.  _ He has headphones in, his hair is loosely coiled at the nape of his neck and he’s dressed in sweats, looking for  _ something _ in the cupboards.

He lets his hands fall heavily to the counter but Nine doesn’t even start, doesn’t flinch or look up at him. Nine starts to bounce a little, probably in time with the music they’re listening to  _ way too loud, _ so Saeran does the only thing he can think of.  He tugs one of the headphones out of the other man’s ear.

Nine whirls around fingers clasped around Saeran’s elbow and pulling sharply to throw him off balance before hard purple eyes soften with his fingers and he helps Saeran catch his balance. “Sorry,” Nine mumbles, “habit, don’t you assholes have water bottles or even a fucking empty jar?”

“ _ What _ ? Nine what the fuck?” Saeran yawns.  Can’t really fault the man for always being on the defensive, Saeran had to admit if not for the fact that Yoosung and Saeyoung were constantly sneaking up on him he’d probably react the same.  Hell he had given Yoosung a black eye that one time when he’d first come home.

“Wanna go for a run, usually train in the mornings but I’m not exactly clear on getting to my gym from here so run.” He shrugs.

Saeran snorts.  “You know there’s some stuff in the garage.”

“ _ Some stuff _ ,” Nine mimics, “you trying to get  _ swole _ stick boy?”

Saeran growls and rolls his eyes. “It’s Saeyoung’s”

“Hmm, show me, I fucking hate running.”

Nine follows Saeran to the garage past the cars that he looks at in a kind of awe Saeran could never find it in himself to muster for his brother’s collection.  Nine nods his head as they approach the corner he still catches his brother in sometimes.

“Holy shit dude this is perfect I love those fucking dummies,” Saeran watches as Nine drops his weight low and swings a well-placed kick center mass on the heavy dummy.  Foot curving just under its outstretched arms, it makes a sickening thud and wobbles slightly.  Nine smirks to himself and Saeran watches the way his foot shifts before he stands.

“So what, you do like judo or some shit?” Saeran asks.

Nine frowns, his face contorting in thought for a moment before he answers. “No, I just,” he sighs, “haven’t you ever gotten in a fight?”

Saeran snorts and then he shrugs. “Getting in a fight isn’t the same as training.”

“I am well fucking aware,” Nine snorts. “People fight dirty, I’m bad at those kind of fights, but I’m good at faking it you know.”

Saeran snorts.

“Shut up,” Nine laughs. “Like you know, I took some self defence and some kickboxing and like regular boxing.  Grew up gay and trans in the southren US a lot of shitty people are fucking pussies so you look like you know how to drop them and the worst they do is hurt your feelings.”

“What about the ones that aren’t?” Saeran asks with a smirk on his face.

“They fight fucking dirty,” he mumbles and Saeran can see the way he thumbs at his nose and sucks on his teeth like he’s remembering. “Come on, you got in fights right,” Nine snorts and waves him over dropping his stance.

Saeran shakes his head, “It came with the job,” he shrugs, “not gonna fight you.”

Nine laughs, “Fine, offer stands though.”

Saeran shakes his head as he walks away, the dull thud of fists against leather starting as he closes the garage door behind himself.  He goes back to bed for another hour or so.  He doesn’t fall asleep just lays comfortably wrapped in blankets staring at the glowing screen of his phone in the dark.  He gets up when he hears the bathroom door close and the shower start.

A pot of coffee is already percolating and Saeran starts breakfast.  They eat, they play video games and Nine cheats, just like his brother.  Saeran doesn’t mind, as far as he’s concerned if someone cheats at a game that means he’s won.  They talk and they exist in the same space.  The thing he likes about spending time with Nine, in person or online, is that he can talk or not talk and Nine doesn’t seem to mind either way.

Nine fills the silence when he needs to or leaves it be but he doesn’t question it.  Saeran likes being able to mention the things he’s gone through without the other person clamming up.  He likes that, on the occasion he references something fucked up from Mint Eye, Nine always has a collaborative story.  It makes things seem more bearable, makes him feel less other.

“Wait no?” Nine snorts.  Because of course they’re both laughing, Saeran might have just admitted some fucked up shit but Nine, Nine can still laugh of the absurdity of the situation because he is familiar.

“I fucking swear, he fucking  _ begged _ , I mean I saw some fucked up shit but a dude begging to fucking kiss the shit off a boot-”

Nine interrupts him with a cackle that morphs into a gag. “That’s, man that’s fucked up,” they concede, “like we forced people to eat fucking fetal pigs for fertility once but no one  _ wanted _ to.”

“Oh fucking gross,” Saeran snorts.

“You’re talking about eating shit, like literally eating shit, fuck off.” Nine laughs shoving him.

Nine’s phone chimes in his pocket and he takes a breath before he stands up to answer it.  Saeran can tell by the way his smile softens that it’s his kids and that makes something in his stomach twist.  He thinks after last night he can clearly admit, to himself at the very least, that maybe he likes Nine as something more than a friend.  

He’s not exactly prepared to examine that any deeper for the time being.  Nine had kissed him back, he thinks maybe the other man might feel similarly and Saeran considers that the thing he likes  _ most _ about Nine is that today has been normal.  Nine didn’t force him to talk about it, didn’t make him feel weird, or act weird.  Nine just continued on, because that was normal, and they don’t need to talk about.

Because Saeran likes Nine, and Nine likes Saeran but  _ Nine has kids _ and that complicates things. So for now Saeran likes whatever it is they’re doing.  He likes that he could probably hold Nine’s hand if he wanted to, and he likes that he could probably kiss him again.  The American school year still has another few months and Saeran has time to figure this out.

*

It’s been a week.  He’s gone to Saeran’s a few times in the evening, his brother hovering over them offering them snacks or drinks in a way that reminds Nine of his mother when Raj would visit.  He almost expects the red headed twin to shout  _ leave the door open _ when they move down the hall to Saeran’s room.

He’s seen the way red brows shoot up when he catches them sitting together on their phones, fingers gently twined together, but no one says anything.  Nine doesn’t want to push it.  It’s nice to feel like he knows someone here.  Saeran has been through more than him in some ways and he knows this is a big step.  He wants to ask questions, to understand boundaries but he doesn’t want to force him to talk about anything.

Still it’s been a week.

“So,” Nine says casually sitting on the floor between Saeran’s knees.  They’re playing Uno with the twins on their phones.  It had been Saeran’s idea and Nine can see that he’s letting them win.  The way he smirks a little before a bad play.

“You know the last person I kissed was Yoosung,” Saeran says cooly, like he can read his mind and knows what he was going to say.

“You want to talk about it?” Nine says carefully, “because you don’t have to.”

He can feel Saeran shrug without even looking. “Kinda feels like we need to.”

Nine rests his head on Saeran’s thigh and considers his words before he speaks. “I don’t want to take anything from you that you don’t want to give.”

“Ok Doc,” Saeran snorts.

Nine pinches him but he doesn’t flinch. “I just mean maybe you or  _ we _ do need to talk about it but only if you’re  _ you know _ comfortable talking about it.  It’s not a big deal to put it off.”

“Ok,” Saeran says, and plays another losing hand. “I want to.  I did a shitty thing, and when we kissed it was the first time I kissed someone and I didn’t feel like a piece of shit afterwards ok?  So I thought maybe I should tell you that.”

“Why did you feel like shit?” Nine asks, because he can tell the point of this is not that Saeran thought kissing him was nice but that he felt like he had made a good choice and he’s maybe questioning the feeling.

“He was married, or  _ fuck _ , engaged?  I don’t remember it was,” he sighs, “I hadn’t been out of the hospital long.”

“Shit happens,” Nine shrugs.

“Nina wasn’t even mad, she should have been mad.” He says.

“She seems like a really good person.”

“She let us fuck around, like made rules and shit, because she said Yoosung should get to explore himself, that it would put them on even ground.”  He shakes his head.  Nine watches the girls typing at one another in the little window on his phone.  He logs out, and turns on his knees to face Saeran.  “Fuck she is a really good person,” Saeran mumbles.  Nine rests his hands on Saeran’s thighs and listens to his confession. “I fucked it up,” he admits, “I dunno it could have been fine, could have worked but I had to fucking push things, and you know, shit.”

“Not talk about it?” Nine tries.

He nods. “They were  _ you know _ understanding or whatever.  That’s why we’re still friends I guess, but I fucked it up.”

“Shit happens,” Nine says with a shrug and squeezes Saeran’s thighs in reassurance. “You didn’t have to tell me that though.  It’s ok, we’ve all fucked up.”

“Yeah but you-”

Nine cuts him off. “Kids?”

Saeran nods.

“Listen, I get that and if that freaks you out that’s fine.  We can be friends, or we can be friends who kiss or whatever.  I don’t mind.” Nine laughs.

“What if I fuck up, what if I push boundaries and-”

“I’ll tell you.” Nine places his hands on Saeran’s cheeks as he stands and kisses him on the forehead. “I’ll be honest and you be honest.  It’s been a really long time for me too ok?”

Saeran nods.  “Kids freak me the fuck out.”

Nine laughs, “You were just doing pretty good.”

“That’s,” Saeran growls, “it doesn’t count, they don’t have to see me, I don’t have to worry about what I’m saying.”

“You don’t have to do that anyway, I don’t censor swears you know?  It’s fine.” Nine laughs.

“They’re so fucking small,” Saeran shakes his head.

“You’re not that big,” Nine laughs.

Saeran frowns.

“It’s not like you  _ have _ to hang out with them, you don’t even have to worry about them right now, we have time.”

He nods, but Saeran doesn’t look convinced.

*

“What are you even doing right now?” Farah asks on the other end of the line.

“Calling my children while they sleep over at their Auntie’s?” Nine asks.

“They’re in bed, you fucking suck at this timezone shit,” she snorts.

“Shit.”

“Ok but what in the actual fuck are you doing, because I have heard three good ass songs play for 3 seconds,” Farah asks.

“Making a playlist.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’s for work.”

“Saeran keeps wearing this fucking Nirvana shirt and it’s ruining my life that he has never heard them.” He whines.

“Wait are you making a boy a mixtape?” Farah asks, voice full of hope.

“Shit,” Nine snorts.

*

“So uh,” Saeyoung was bad at this.  Bad at trying to be sincere while hiding how uncomfortable it made him.  Saeran can see it on his face and he wonders how he managed to be a fucking secret agent for so long.

“What,” he growls.  Today had been a bad day.  He was supposed to go out with Yoosung and Nina after his therapy appointment, which had been as rough as he’d expected, but V had picked him up.

V hadn’t just picked him up though, he’d taken him to lunch and given him a lecture. 

It wasn’t even that he disagreed with the points V made.  He could rationalize the older man’s concerns but what bothered him, what  _ always _ bothered him about these lectures was; What gives him the fucking right?  He and Nine had so much in common and while he’d never say it out loud seeing Nine existing the way he does, confident and functional, it gave him hope.

Then V had made a comment about Nine’s kids and he’d snapped.

It was one thing to discuss all the things he was already quietly brooding over himself, but for V to suggest that  _ Nine _ was being  _ selfish _ or flippant.  To suggest that Nine prioritized dick over his kids, or would allow Saeran to harm them in anyway.  For V to suggest that with the backing of Nine’s history in the cult.

Saeran maybe over reacted, maybe he didn’t.  He hopes V left a good tip after the mess he’d made before he walked out.

“Hey,” Saeyoung frowns hands up in surrender, “I heard what happened are you ok.”

“M’fine,” he grunts, opening his texts.

“It’s just I was talking to V and-”

“He fucking deserved it,” Saeran says defensively, trying to will Nine to check his phone, knowing he’s busy and he probably won’t see Saeran’s text for another hour or more.

“I know,” Saeyoung says.  Saeran’s eyes flick up. “I mean I’m still not sold on your new  _ friend _ but V is,” he groans. “I don’t know he pushes too hard.  It’s probably nice to have someone who gets it better.”

“What?” Saeran can’t help the way his mouth hangs just a little open as his brother’s words.

“I mean,” Saeyoung shrugs. “Like whatever you’re doing?  He seems to help, you’ve I dunno you’ve seemed  _ better _ . It’s a shitty word but I can’t think of another way to put it.”

“I think I’m going to stay at Nine’s tonight,” he says.  He’d expected Saeyoung to scold him had planned to go over and say nothing until he was asked.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Saeyoung says cheeks red.

“Fuck off,” Saeran snorts.

Nine does text, sends him the code for the door and tells him to go over whenever.  He’s never been here alone and he simply stands in the middle of the house for a few minutes.  It’s very Nine, the furniture soft and worn, a bit of a mess.  The art on the wall surprises him, the art on the fridge does not.

He looks at a photo, a shot of a very young Nine dressed much the way he dressed today, surrounded by people.  He suspects the dark skinned boy with him is the twins father but the group is all crushed together, hands all intertwined as they lean together laughing and wrestling.  Saeran wonders what he might have been like if he’d have had friends before everything had happened.

He’s settled in by the time Nine gets home.  Surprised and suspicious about the amount of vegetables in the fridge.  They had discussed Saeran coming over earlier in the week and he suspects this has something to do with the cooking class he’d mentioned taking in rehab.  He doesn’t mind, as shitty as Nine eats when left on his own he hadn’t complained about the things Saeran had fed him yet.  Not like Saeyoung.

Saeran is cooking when Nine comes in the door, “Honey I’m Home,” he calls in english quickly switching back to Korean when he sees Saeran standing in the kitchen, “Shit, I didn’t think you’d really cook.”

Saeran snorts. “I’m fucking sick of Ramen and Saeyoung’s too busy to go for groceries.”

Nine laughs, he tosses his coat at a hook by the door, leaving it on the floor when it doesn’t quite catch and kicks his shoes off. “I’ll be right back.”

Saeran groans but he sure as hell isn’t going to pick up behind two messy idiots.  When Nine comes back out with his hair down and sweatpants on Saeran points without looking. “Pick it up.”

“What?”

“Your shit, put it away.”

“God,” Nine whines. “Yes, Chief.  This is my house you know.”

“Yeah I can tell, it’s a mess,” Saeran deadpans.

“Did you listen to that playlist I sent you?” Nine asks and there’s a hint of something Saeran can’t read in his voice.

“Yeah,” he says turning the pan down and turning around. “It was fine but-”

“It’s not My Chemical Romance?” Nine snorts.

“Fuck off.”

Nine helps Saeran set the table and when they sit down he starts laughing until Saeran narrows his eyes on him. “What the fuck?”

“No candles?”

“You think this is a date?” Saeran snorts “You’re wearing sweatpants.”

“Don’t you want me to be comfortable on our date?” Nine fakes a pout and Saeran finds it doesn’t suit him.

“No,” he says and watches Nine struggle not to smile. “I’d rather you look  _ nice _ , I know you’re a slob, pretend to be a fucking person for once.”

Nine laughs.  He laughs so hard he snorts. “Take me out on a proper date, I’ll wear a fucking suit.” He says gasping for air.

Something inside Saeran shifts.  Nine is joking.  He doesn’t care about dates or lables or being anything more than what they are but Saeran?  For the first time he can remember he thinks maybe that’s a good place to start. “Ok,” he says.

“Wait what?”

“I’ve never gone on a date, never taken anyone on one either, but if you want to?”

“Jesus Saeran I mean, yeah?  Don’t- I was kidding, I mean I would one hundred percent go on a date if you wanted but only if you want right?”

“You better dress fucking nice.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am NB but I am not a trans man if I write something wrong please DM me on twitter @botanyvampire Or send me an ask on Tumblr Botany-Enthused-Vampire and let me know what I can do to fix it.


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